


Old Tales

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Birthday Party, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 13:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Harry puts his faith in an old wives' tale. Sirius puts his faith in Harry.





	Old Tales

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [DogStar234](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DogStar234/pseuds/DogStar234) in the [SirryFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SirryFest) collection. 



> Written for DogStar234's prompt over at the Sirry Summer Fest! I can never resist a soulmate AU, and I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> This story is AU in that Sirius survived the ministry battle, and Harry and Dumbledore were really productive and defeated Voldemort three months before Harry was to turn seventeen. Also, soulmates.

There was nothing quite like a seventeenth birthday party in the wizarding world. In the three months since Voldemort had been defeated, there had been many a party in celebration of the end of the war and for all the celebrations skipped when the war was at its height. Harry’s seventeenth birthday felt like the culmination of it all. Various tents, activities, and a huge main pavilion had been set up on the Hogwarts lawn, and at least half of Hogwarts seemed to be in attendance despite school not being in session. Harry took a moment to regret letting Sirius do all the planning for the event before Ron roped him into a drinking game involving spelled bludgers, and then he forgot his earlier annoyance, surrounded by a group of people he actually knew.

Gifts kept being thrown at him, his cheeks were kissed by various people, and at least four propositions came his way during the course of the first few hours of the party.

“You’re popular today,” Ron said, laughing as Harry tried to escape from Romilda, who hadn’t stopped at a kiss on the cheek. “Oh wait, that’s every day.”

“You’d think she’d leave me alone today of all days.” Harry peeked out from behind the quidditch post, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her going in the other direction.

Ron, a terrible person, continued laughing until he said, “Maybe she hopes the old saying is true. You know, that whoever you kiss on your seventeenth has a better chance of becoming your soulmate.”

“Hermione wrote a twenty-page paper on the various studies that disprove that.”

“Yeah, _but_ we kissed on her seventeenth, and my name wound up on her wrist, so maybe there’s some truth to it.”

Harry gave a huff of laughter. “You mean you spent hours convincing her that you two should kiss just in case the old wives’ tale was true.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Ron looked so self-satisfied that Harry couldn’t argue. They turned back toward the main pavilion, Ron’s arm flung over his shoulders as he expounded on the virtues of just going for it and making out with whoever he wants today. “If it doesn’t work, then at least you got to kiss someone you like before you go and find your soulmate. If it does, then you kissed your soulmate a day early! Isn’t that wicked? You can spend the rest of forever with the smug knowledge that you were right. You predicted fate.”

“Hermione is going to do something drastic one of these days,” Harry said, amused despite himself.

“She’s right a lot of the time. She can at least let me take this one.” Ron untangled himself from Harry to grab some chips and drinks from the nearest food tent, then returned to Harry. “What’ve you got to lose?”

Harry took a long drink, letting the firewhiskey warm his body from the throat down. Ron’s words weren’t welcome, no matter that this was exactly what Harry spent the past few weeks thinking about. In less than an hour, Harry’s fate would be decided. Would it really hurt to take one kiss for himself? He could blame it on the firewhiskey, on the celebration, on the madness that surrounded finding who one’s soulmate will be. He was seventeen today—legally, anyway, and would be properly seventeen very soon. He’d spent his life being rebellious in various ways, from stealing Dudley’s toy soldiers to toppling a Dark Lord, and one more rebellion wouldn’t be out of character. He wouldn’t be seventeen forever.

Swallowing, Harry said, “I don’t know how you did it. I’m not brave enough for this shit. To just try, without knowing if it will pay off.”

Ron shrugged. “Dunno if it was bravery. It was just that Hermione was going to get her mark, and I panicked at the thought that it could be someone else. I know people say it doesn’t mean anything, that it’s all predestined as soon as we’re born, but I needed to do _something_ and that was the only thing I could do. I think she figured she wanted some control over it, too, even if she didn’t believe in a kiss being able to change anything.”

“He wouldn’t want to be my soulmate anyway.” Harry’s tone went glum. He couldn’t help it.

“‘course he would. Who wouldn’t want to be your soulmate? _I_ _’d_ be your soulmate. If I swung that way and Hermione could join in too, I mean.”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry said, patting his arm. “I’d be your soulmate, too. Now go find Hermione.”

“And you’ll go find him?” Ron asked, hopefully.

“Can we at least pretend like you don’t know who I’m talking about?”

Ron shook his head, all solemnly, and said, “Harry, there’s about two people on earth who don’t know who you’re talking about. Him and Romilda Vane.”

Just for that, Harry pushed him in Hermione’s direction and ducked behind one of the tents, wanting a moment alone. He stepped aside when a blast of fire came his way; on the open end of the tent, some kind of carnival game was being played, and wizarding carnival games were no joke.

It was getting late. The sun had already begun to set behind the Black Lake. Harry checked his watch. The minutes just kept ticking down. Almost exactly seventeen years ago, he had been born. If he was going to do this, he’d have to do it now. Harry stepped out from the quiet of the back tent and made his way around the Hogwarts lawn, accepting birthday wishes and sipping his drink while he kept a lookout for a familiar face. He passed the professors’ tent, where Dumbledore and McGonagall were convincing Remus to return to Hogwarts for another year, and chimed in with agreement. Right after, he narrowly avoided being drawn into Ginny and Luna’s game of wizard’s tag, which the twins were cheerfully enabling.

When he saw him, Harry almost chickened out. He walked on anyway.

Sirius was sitting on the lake’s dock, feet swinging and catching the surface of the water on each pass.

Harry sat down next to him, face warming when Sirius looked his way. He felt as though his intentions had to be on his face, that Sirius would see him and know why Harry was here.

Maybe that was why Sirius didn’t look as happy to see him as he usually did. “Not having fun?”

“Too much fun,” Harry admitted, holding up his firewhiskey. Maybe it would be enough to smooth things over. “Ron introduced me to the game. The one with the bludgers.”

“A lauded pasttime,” Sirius agreed.

“And my name is coming in soon. I thought I should take a moment.”

“Ah.” Sirius turned away, looking out at the Black Lake. “Soulmates aren’t always a good thing, you know.”

“You never talk about yours.”

“I never have.”

“Not with anyone?” Harry asked.

“Not with anyone.”

“Not even with my dad?”

“Especially not with him,” Sirius said, a tired edge to his voice. “I thought I could ignore it forever. I thought I had more time.”

 _Did your soulmate die?_ Harry almost asked, but he knew better than that. Just barely. Even as Harry restrained his curiosity verbally, his imagination flew in familiar paths. He’d thought through all the options in the past year, two, even when he’d tried so hard not to think about it. There were the fantasies, unlikely as they were: if Sirius’ soulmate had died, then Sirius might get a new name when his next match turned seventeen. Or maybe Sirius never had a soulmate at all and could get Harry’s name.

Reality usually edged its way in: Sirius already had a name on his wrist behind the worn leather band, and in a matter of minutes, Harry would get someone else’s name on his wrist.

In his head, Harry knew what the most likely outcome was.

His heart was another matter. It was stupid and it made him feel young, like a kid instead of a grown man, newly of age and about to meet his new destiny. He could only hope that fate would be kind to him this time.

In time, he would probably get over Sirius.

Maybe one day he might even come to think of Sirius as a godfather, all properly, with no intrusive thoughts and desires.

Harry felt like his heart might come up out of his throat along with his dinner. He started speaking anyway. “Look, Sirius—”

“You don’t have to be with your soulmate,” Sirius cut through. It all came out in a rush, and Sirius’ gray eyes were turbulent as he continued. “Fate is bullshit anyway. I mean it. Nothing has to change unless you want it to.”

Harry tried to keep the confusion from his face. “I know. Sure, sometimes things don’t work out between people, but I... I want things to work out. With whoever it is.” In his heart of hearts, he knew it won’t be Sirius. All that meant was that meeting his soulmate could give him the push to put his feelings on the right track. Maybe not now, but they could meet, could get to know each other, and then... Then Harry was going to be ditched because he couldn’t even imagine falling out of love with his godfather.

“I meant that your soulmate might not want this,” Sirius tried again. “That they’ve weighed all the reasons and decided it was a bad choice all around. Really shitty choice, in fact.”

“You think it’s someone older than me?” Harry had thought about it, but, “Wouldn’t they have told me if they knew? I’m not hard to find. I always thought it would be someone younger than me, who doesn’t know yet.” His soulmate could be at Hogwarts this very night. There were plenty of younger students here with their older siblings or on the invitation of someone older.

Sirius shook his head. “It could be someone who didn’t want you to know.”

“I guess. Like if they were a Death Eater.”

A strangled noise came from Sirius’ direction. “Not exactly what I meant.”

“A blood purist? You’re right, an actual Death Eater would have tried to use the connection against me during the war.”

“Or just someone who...” Sirius trailed off. He didn’t finish his thought.

Harry got the feeling that they were talking at cross-purposes. “You’re being weird. You’ve been weird all month.” He’d tried not to take it personally. They were all still dealing with the fallout of the blood wars.

“I know,” Sirius said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know. I’m sorry. What time is it?”

“A quarter past.”

“Fuck. Don’t you want to spend your last moments of freedom getting drunk with friends?”

Harry raised his bottle. “I have enough here. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He watched Sirius swallow, watched his gaze linger on Harry’s watch. It had been given to him by Sirius that morning as a mark of adulthood in magical society. Sirius had been cheerful in the morning, all abuzz with the birthday surprises he had for Harry. Now, he only looked solemn, sincere.

“We are,” Sirius said, and it felt like a promise. “This is going to be fine. You and me, we’re going to be fine.”

Sirius seemed to be convincing himself, but it worked on Harry, too. He set his firewhiskey beside him on the dock and turned to Sirius.

“You’re right,” Harry agreed, and kissed him. It was just a soft, tentative brush of lips, chaster than even his first kiss with Cho. The moment hung between them, and then Harry drew back. Needlessly, he said, “The old wives’ tale. Almost ran out of time to do it.”

Sirius seemed to be at a loss for words. “Harry, you... This is wrong.”

Harry checked his watch. “It’s not wrong for another two minutes. I’m not marked yet.”

“I’m your godfather.” Sirius drew the words around him like a shield.

“I like to think of it as my mum and dad knowing we’d get on,” Harry said, and nearly laughed at Sirius’ expression. “Who says we can’t decide for ourselves what our relationship can be?” Some of his mirth faded. A minute left. “Other than fate. But weren’t you just talking about how nothing has to change? And that not all soulmates work out?”

Sirius shook his head emphatically even as he took Harry’s hands in his. “Not for you. Harry, I want the world for you. A cute girl or boy your age, maybe that Malfoy brat you keep talking about—”

“Not even if the Department of Mysteries itself came out with a prophecy.”

“—or one of your friends. It shouldn’t be _me_. You know that. You have to. All my life, I haven’t been able to do the right thing. I could at least do the right thing here with you. There isn’t anyone more important to me than you, Harry.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Harry said even as he knew his time was up. He twisted his right hand in Sirius’ grip, turning his wrist face-up. It was blank, but already there was a prickle of something beneath his skin. “I just want it to be you.”

Sirius’ grip tightened for a moment. He looked spooked, in a way he hadn’t even during the war. “It is.”

There wasn’t enough time for Harry to ask him what he meant. Silver thread wove its way through his skin, shining brightly in the evening dim. The full name shone brightly for a moment before fading into a dark script. _Sirius Orion Black_. Harry had spent altogether too much time imagining it. It didn’t look the same as in his dreams; too neat, too easy. Too expected on one side of the bond, Harry realized, Sirius’ words knocking around his head.

He tugged at Sirius’ wristband. Sirius let him, silent and still as Harry uncovered his own name on Sirius’ wrist. The words were warm under Harry’s fingers, as was Sirius’ skin. His pulse kept a fast, even beat, matching Harry’s.

“Are you angry?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence.

“Kind of,” Harry said, diplomatically. He’d never liked it when people kept secrets from him, not even when Sirius did it. But this was more important. “Even fate says that this should happen. The only wrong choice is not taking a chance.”

Sirius traced the letters on Harry’s wrist. “Since when have you obeyed fate?”

“Ten seconds ago.” Harry threaded their fingers together. “When I found out that fate decided to do me a favor. Please, Sirius?”

Sirius let out a breath. “I should say no. This feels like the best bad decision I could make.”

Harry could argue, but for now, he’d take it. He could wear down the rest of Sirius’ defenses later. He’d ask Ron and Hermione for advice. “You should kiss me properly. To make sure it takes.”

“Too late for that,” Sirius said with a huff of laughter, but he did it anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [tumblr](https://wynnefic.tumblr.com/).


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